pickandwhammy

Although I didn't really have much idea of time, I'm quite sure it all took place in less than two seconds.

My driving is sporty, fast, and scary. But it's not rash, nor reckless, nor dangerous. I'm a driver who follows the 'look before you leap' policy very seriously. Most of the time, my eyes aren't on the road directly in front of me, but scanning for possible interventions that could intervene in the road directly in front of me, and cause me discomfort; which, I believe, is why I've been safe all this time.
But what is the probability of turning on a flyover and crashing into a crash that just took place? That's something I'd never thought of, and hence hadn't anticipated it to be there.

As I leaned into the next section of the PAS flyover, rolling at about 70 kmph, I saw a bike crashing into a cycle in the middle of the road, and screamed my head off, asking them to 'get out of the damn way', but realised that there's nothing that can be done. As soon as the impact took place, I took the aid of the momentum and leapt off the bike, forward. Nobody wants to stay under a 150 kg machine decelerating from about 50 to zero in less than a second!

The short: I was in the air for about a second or two, bounced off the ground once, and finally came to rest at about 20 metres from the site of the crash.

The long: They say you see images of loved ones, thoughts rush through your head, a blinding white light too, as some state. I'm a scientist, hence the only thing that I felt was what any particle travelling at great speeds will undergo: an application of the Theory of (Special) Relativity: time dilation. Two seconds really felt like a long time! Let me break it up into phases that I can distinctly identify:
1. Silk Approach: This is the moment where I sprang off the bike. During this slice of time, I had just let go. I had no neuromuscular control whatsoever. I just saw the front fairing of the bike disappear below me. This slice of time was probably the shortest out of all.
2. Ingress: This slice starts right where I got back from semi-paralysis and my 6-years-old gymnastics instincts kicked in, my brain trying to figure out my orientation and configuration in space, trying to stabilise the haphazard turning through the air, and readying my body for the fall. I must say, it did a pretty good job, and prepared me almost totally. Even so, you must consider I was flying at almost 50 kmph, accelerating at 9.81 m/s^2 towards solid tarmac! At this point, another area of my brain was duly given the image of the driver flying off after a crash in Roadrash by its subconscious, and I almost smiled in amusement and also at the irony!
3. Mayday: I hit the ground, mostly on my back, trying to roll with the momentum of the fall, but since I wasn't completely ready, my right leg took a part of the fall too. As soon as the impact occurred, I bounced back in the air for another few milliseconds, and lost orientation again. This time the duration was too short for me to regain control and prepare for the second impact, but the first fall had already slowed me down to almost a halt, so it wasn't much to worry about. During this time, my brain was too busy coordinating muscular activity to think of anything else.
4. LZ: The final fall and roll: I came to a halt, sprawled on the road, and at this point my head was blank. In another instant, logic flashed back into my head and told me to get off the damn road in case a vehicle comes from behind. I somehow stood up, maintained balance for about 2-3 seconds, and then fell down again: partly due to shock, but mostly due to my right leg being non-functional. I got up again, and hobbled over to the side of the road, head still spinning.
5. Launch CSAR: Adrenaline rushing through my veins, I hardly felt any pain. But I couldn't use my right leg very well. I turned my ankle about and concluded that I was spared a fracture. Checked wounds, mostly light abrasions, possibly one laceration, and a sprain. That being done, it occurred to me that I must have practically killed the bike! Throughout the confrontation with the other biker and discussion with passers-by, all I was thinking about was the damage it must have taken. I somehow, very slowly, rode it back to my house, parked it, and went upstairs to dress my wounds, and inform the bike-owner of the incident.

The bike did suffer a lot of damage, unfortunately. The front rim is bent, handlebar is twisted, front suspensions are crushed, front-fairing is damaged, and rear-wheel-mudguard is broken, all beyond repair. They have to be replaced. Repairable damage: fuel tank is dented and gear-shift-lever is slightly bent.
PS: The bike is a red Pulsar 150 DTS-i, belonging to a friend of mine.

The following terms are used in this entry. They are military flight terms:
Silk Approach: The act of bailing out of an aeroplane.
Ingress: The route of entry.
Mayday: Emergency call. (French: m'aidez- "help me")
LZ: Landing Zone
CSAR: Combat Search And Rescue